No One Is To Blame
by MandalaMarigold
Summary: Following the death of their daughter, Lord and Lady Grantham struggle with not only grief, but marital strain.
1. Chapter 1

AN: I've been playing around with what went on between Cora and Robert, after Sybil's death, that wasn't captured in the show. I envision this collection covering episodes 3.5 and 3.6, and this chapter begins after Mary leaves Cora at Sybil's bedside.

I'm just taking these characters out to play, everything and everyone belongs to the keepers and creators of the show. Rating K+

* * *

He sat on the edge of the bed, head down, staring at his feet through a haze of tears. The soft knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts, and it opened before he had a chance to respond. It was Mary; he knew it would be her to search him out. She was loyal to both her parents, and fiercely protective of him.

Without lifting his head Robert asked, "how is she?"

"She's asked for more time" Mary replied, paraphrasing her mother.

Robert nodded.

Mary started, "she's asked that you…" but stopped when he looked up at her, tears tracked down his cheeks.

Clearing his throat, he quickly averted his eyes and looked over to the dressing room door, "I'll go."

Her eyes welled. "Oh Papa…."

He held up his hand to silence her, "I think it's best."

He knew that Mary was struggling to maintain her composure. He knew he was somehow failing her too. And still, Robert reluctantly walked over to the door that separated his private dressing room and his wife's bedroom, the room that Cora had insisted all along was 'theirs'.

"Try and get some sleep," he mumbled over his shoulder as he reached out for the handle.

Mary straightened, "you too" and as she watched her father push the door open, she backed out of the room. "Good night, Papa."

* * *

Edith, duty-bound, like Mary had come in to check on her; to encourage her to get some rest but Cora refused to budge, clinging to what little time she had left. Now silence filled the room, as there was nothing more to say. Sybil was gone.

Hugging herself, she mustered the strength to stand. Cora glanced over Sybil's lifeless body one last time, and just as she had done a few hours earlier, she kissed the tip of her finger and placed it on her daughters' lips.

"Goodbye puppet." She swallowed thickly as heavy tears threatened to fall. She knew she had to turn away now, or she would never be able to.

She made it to the hallway outside Sybil's room and instantly began regretting her decision. Conflict arose within her, as did a sense of dread and fear over the prospect of living this life without her daughter. And suddenly, like the flick of a switch, she was acutely aware of how rapidly and how painfully her heart was throbbing in her chest. How with each heartbeat her throat began to tighten.

Panicked she reached a hand out for the wall, the other she placed over the stone that began sinking in her stomach. Nausea came over her like a wave, and was gone just as quickly, leaving her numb with an entirely new sensation. Static began to fill her ears and her eyes, throwing off her senses.

Instinctively she stopped crying and began to focus on her breathing as pain gripped at her chest. She closed her eyes, as her breathing grew ragged. She felt her knees buckle and slowly she slid forward, all her remaining strength slipping away.

* * *

Tom, crouched on his hunches outside Sybil's bedroom door, watched his mother-in-law leave the room. He reacted instantly, lunging forward, as Cora succumbed to her grief. "Lady Grantham?" He called to her. Hearing that her breathing was becoming more uneven, he tried once again, "Lady Grantham!"

She heard her name called from somewhere. "Cora!"

And it was that which finally pulled her from herself. She felt a hand on her arm, and another come around her body.

She felt herself being pulled forward.

The warmth of his body beside her was comforting, comforting enough that she was able to regain some of her senses. When they reached her bedroom door she inhaled slowly and looked over at him. Their tear filled eyes mirrored each other's.

Tom looked away first, embarrassed to have addressed his mother-in-law so informally, and reached for the doorknob, "here we are," he said softly as he gently pushed the door open and led her in.

She eyed her son-in-law carefully, grateful that it wasn't Robert; yet disappointed that it was someone else. She stopped at the threshold, pulling her arm from his soft grasp. "I'm sorry, Tom," she said softly as she moved around him and made her way to her bed. Tom hesitated wondering if he should escort her the entire way, however reminded himself of where he was and decided to hold his position. He watched her carefully with anticipation. She sat down on the edge of the bed, struggling to catch her breath.

Tom shifted on his feet.

"Robert" she inhaled slowly, "should have listened…" she exhaled as fresh tears cascaded down her cheeks, unable to finish her thought she simply looked up at him. The silence that followed spoke volumes.

Grasping the meaning of Cora's words. "Thank you," Tom whispered. He cleared his throat, feeling uneasy. "May I check the fire?"

Cora nodded, and she broke eye contact with Tom, marking the last time she would find herself able to look anyone, other than Robert, in the eye for days. He moved to the fire and began tending to the embers that were still glowing from some earlier time in the night. Soon enough the fire was brought back to life.

He backed away from the hearth and stopped at the foot of the bed, feeling the warmth as it began to reach out into the room. He spoke to her again, but she was far away.

"Cora?" He repeated, once again speaking plainly and informally. She slowly turned her head in response. "Shall I ring for someone?"

She shook her head.

"Would you like me to fetch Lord Grantham?"

"No," she croaked. Clearing her throat. "Thank you, Tom."

Tom paused, "I'll say good night then." And he moved to the door. "I hope you're able to get some rest," he offered, looking over at her one last time.

Her eyes were now trained on her hand that was resting on Roberts pillow. Tom was unsure if she heard him, but decided it was time to return to Sybil. As the door clicked shut Cora pulled her feet up onto the bed and stretched herself out on the spot where Robert would usually lay. She pulled his pillow into her chest and hugged it. Desperately she tried to focus on her breathing, which was not entirely under her control. With each slow, deep breath Roberts scent filled her head.

* * *

As soon as Robert heard the commotion in Cora's room he was out of his bed and at the dressing room door in an instant, only to be stopped by the soothing and comforting tone of Tom's voice. He waited, his arm outstretched, hand on the doorknob for the entire exchange. He recoiled when he heard Cora say 'no', that even during her time of extreme anguish she did not want Tom to come find him. Tears filled his eyes. He realized then that this whole ordeal was going to be much more than the loss his daughter. He stood, with his back against door for what seemed like hours. He listened to Cora struggle with her suffering, then eventually there was silence and, he hoped for her sake, sleep.

* * *

Cora remained that way for hours. Unable to close her eyes for longer than a blink. She wavered with emotional lability until numbness overwhelmed her. The heat of the fire reaching her but not warming her, and she began to shiver.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: I've been playing around with what went on between Cora and Robert, after Sybil's death, that wasn't captured in the show. I envision this collection covering episodes 3.5 and 3.6. This chapter was not something i originally thought to add, but came up with the idea yesterday and have been playing around after I panicked. It's more of a 'test-run' chapter for myself, to make sure I can figure this site out, mainly editing/adding a chapter (I'm still learning). It fits along the timeline of the morning after Sybil's death. Thank you so much for reading!

I'm just taking these characters out to play, everything and everyone belongs to the keepers and creators of the show. Rating K+

* * *

To Cora, it seemed as though the sun had just begun to push its way into the room when her maid walked in with a breakfast tray. O'Brien took one look at Her Ladyship resting on the bed and her eyes glossed over with tears. She paused, uncertain of how to proceed.

Their eyes met. O'Brien's usually hard, judgmental eyes were now softened with sympathy. "I'm ever so sorry M'Lady," O'Brien whispered. "So very sorry, indeed." She stopped there, uncertain if she could continue.

Cora cleared her throat. "Thank you, O'Brien"

O'Brien nodded and lifted the tray slightly. "I've brought your breakfast".

Cora moved to sit. "What time is it?" She asked, as she propped herself up, leaning back on her hand.

"Ten-thirty M'Lady," O'Brien paused. "Everyone was getting worried." She stopped herself again, not sure how transparent to be. "I was asked to come in and check on you."

Cora's eyebrow shifted slightly but her expression was otherwise neutral. She knew who had solicited this favour.

"I see," she sat up fully, pushing her legs over the side of the bed, dropping her feet to the floor. "Where _is_ his Lordship?"

"In the library," O'Brien answered and moved to set the tray down, however Cora waved her off. "Take that way, I don't want it." Her usual amiability pushed aside by her grief.

"M'Lady?" O'Brien looked her over as some of her usual coldness returned.

"Oh alright, leave it." Cora sighed and stood, taking a few steps towards the window. "Do as you please."

O'Brien straightened, pulling the tray closer to her body. "Very well." She glanced about the room. "Would you like to get dressed now?"

"I don't think I'm quite up to it today." Cora mumbled as she crossed her arms over her abdomen.  
"Thank you O'Brien." She said over her shoulder, dismissing her maid.

Cora's eyes burned as she gazed out the window. The sunlight touched the grass, making it sparkle with the glossy dew. She closed her eyes and sighed heavily as her mood darkened and tightened the knot deep within her chest.

* * *

The house, learning that Cora had been roused seemed to set off a flurry of activity at her bedroom door. All, of course, had the best intentions, offering condolences and wanting to help, but all Cora desperately wanted was to be left alone. Her initial shock had begun to wear off; however, she was exhausted and her body ached to her core.

Mrs. Hughes was able to convince her to take a cup of tea, after O'Brien's second failed attempt, however anything more than a small sip made bile rise in her throat.

Mary had come in, twice. The first time to see how she was doing, and the second was to let her know that the men from Grassby's had arrived and were about to prepare Sybil's body to be taken away.

"Would you like a moment with her, Mama? To say goodbye."

"No," Cora answered quickly, her pulse rising along with her anxiety. "But please make sure Tom is given a chance," she trialed off as she sat down on the bed. "And your Papa."

"I will," Mary agreed and paused to look back at Cora. Sensing that her mother had retreated to her own thoughts, Mary lowered her head and quietly pulled the door closed behind her.

Cora sat on the edge of the bed, wringing her hands in her lap. She considered going to the window to get a final glimpse of her daughter, but thought better of it as the notion made her chest begin to tighten. A fresh wave of tears tracked down the forged paths on her cheeks.

* * *

Some time later, Edith appeared, her eyes were red and wet, giving evidence that she had been crying. The soft knock on the door indicated to Cora that it had happened; Sybil had taken her final leave from Downton.

"Mama?" She cautioned at the door to her room; "Are you alright?"

Cora had returned to bed, now lying on her side with her back to the door. "No," she responded slowly, but then quickly added. "But yes, for the moment, I am."

"May I come in? Can I sit with you?" Edith questioned lightly, torn between the need to support and be supported by her mother.

Cora shut her eyes and silently sighed to herself. "Of course my darling," she shifted on the bed looking over her shoulder at Edith as she moved in to the room. "I doubt I'll be much company for you though." Cora rolled on to her back, settling her hands over her aching womb.

"That's alright Mama," Edith pulled her feet up on the bed and settled in next to Cora. Resting on her side, she placed her head on her father's pillow. "It will make me feel better just to be here with you."

After a moment of silent contemplation, Cora glanced over at Edith and smiled weakly. "Where is your father?"

Edith hesitated. "He was on the telephone." She watched Cora, searching for answers to gauge how she might respond. "Speaking with Granny." She paused again; "the car is picking her up at half-three."

Cora groaned as she closed her eyes with a wince, furrowing her brow. She pushed her head into the pillow as she drew her hands up over her face. Edith watched as tears pooled out from the corner of her mother's eye and slid underneath her fingertips. Large tears balled up and slowly rolled down Cora's temple to land on her pillow with a soft thud.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: I've been playing around with what went on between Cora and Robert, after Sybil's death, that wasn't captured in the show. I envision this collection covering episodes 3.5 and 3.6, and this chapter begins after Cora leaves the drawing room to write to Dr. Clarkson. The title of this story also comes from that scene, when Violet tells Robert that he is not to blame, "no one is to blame".

I have made up a tiny bit of pre-canon stuff, if I'm inaccurate with any of it I do apologize.

I own nothing. I'm just taking these characters out to play, everything and everyone belongs to the keepers and creators of the show. Rating K+

* * *

The conversation in the drawing room was punctuated by long, mournful pauses. They were all trapped within their thoughts, making it difficult to maintain a fluid discussion. After some time had passed and it had been settled that Violet would join them for supper, Robert decided to search Cora out. He climbed the stairs slowly, aching to see her but dreading how he would be received. They'd had very little contact, physical or otherwise, since it happened and now more than anything he longed for her embrace.

He had known for a very long time that Cora was stronger than him. Their life together was proof of that. Early on she flourished despite social isolation and culture shock; she raised their daughters with him away at war, all while learning how to conduct herself as a Countess; and more recently the business with the entail, her fortune, the estate, and then on top of it welcoming Tom Branson in to their lives without question. Throughout it all her tolerance seemed limitless.

He considered himself lucky, when he compared his wife to others in their social circle. Her emotional stability granted her a sense of calmness and a thoughtfulness that many women of their generation were lacking, making hers an ideal match for his character. But in that moment, as he methodically climbed each step he couldn't help but wonder if his luck was changing.

When he did not find her in her sitting room he knew she had retreated to her bedroom. His pulse had risen to the point where he felt it in his throat. He swallowed as he timidly approached her bedroom door. He tried to remain hopeful, but his expectations were preparing him for the worst. Robert knocked softly and pushed in on the door without waiting for a response.

"Cora?" He questioned softly. The room was silent and dimly lit. He stepped over the threshold and looked towards the bed, "Cora, are you sleeping?"

He gently walked towards the bed and stopped at his side. Cora was fully dressed, lying on her side. He watched for a moment. Her arms, gripped around her upper body, moved evenly with her breathe. "Cora?" He whispered.

Cora decided to answer him, to keep him from coming any closer. She exhaled slowly and without turning to face him, she spoke. "Robert, please, I prefer to be alone."

Selfishly he ignored her request, he needed her to help him sort out his grief. He continued in a vain attempt at small talk. "How are you?" He asked softly, and then without waiting for an answer, "Have you been in to see the baby?"

After a pause she answered. "No…I can't," and stopped herself.

He nodded in agreement and sighed. "I can't bring myself to go in to the nursery either. She reminds me so much of Sybil," he cut himself off as his memories took him to a different time. The spring of 1895, a much anticipated trip to Duneagle and an invitation to The Berwickshire Hunt. Sybil was born while he and the rest of the family were away. He had been told that Cora brought their youngest daughter in to the world essentially on her own, with only the help of a nurse and her lady's maid. He arrived home nearly a week after Sybil was born, and first met her as she nursed at her mother's breast. Robert knew those first few days of his daughters life had stitched a tight bond between Cora and Sybil, tighter than the bonds could ever have been with his elder daughters. Cora sniffled which brought his mind back to the present moment and he looked Cora over, stunned by a new wave of sadness.

He sat down on the bed with his back to her, defeated by his heavy heart.

They stayed that way, unmoving, for several minutes.

Robert yearned to comfort her. He turned his body towards her and against his better judgment he pushed his hand out, reaching for her and finally lifted it to place it on her hip.

She responded just as he had hoped she wouldn't. Quickly pulling away from his touch, and sitting up in one swift motion. She shifted as close to the edge of the bed as possible, firmly planting her hands on the mattress. "Please don't touch me, Robert," her voice clear and even.

He pulled his outstretched hand back. Disheartened he continued to press her. "Did you finish your letter to Dr. Clarkson?"

Cora dropped her chin in defeat. She understood why he was pursuing her, however it did nothing but fuel her indignation. "No," she snapped, "I did not."

They sat through another long moment of silence. He watched her expectantly, knowing from her tone that she was holding back, and finally she began to speak. "I couldn't find the right words to express myself," Cora explained evenly. She looked over her shoulder at him as anger began to boil within her. She continued, "Words to convey how sorry I am that YOU doubted his professional opinion."

Off in the distance the dressing-gong rang, and as though on queue they stood. Robert slowly turned to face her as Cora began to move around to the foot of the bed. The volume of her voice rising with each step she took. "How EMBARRASSED I am for the way he, our physician and friend, was TREATED in this house."

They were finally standing close enough to embrace. Robert was a bit startled by her appearance, how pale she looked, how red her eyes were. And still she kept on, "How HORRIFIED I was by your aristocratic pride and snobbery!" She spat out her last few words.

Robert's despair was becoming over shadowed by anger. His quick temper took over and he held up his hand to silence her, feeling that he'd heard quite enough.

Her voice dropped an octave, pleading with him to understand. "Robert, if only you had listened, she could have been saved!"

"Cora, I am sorry."

"I am too," she straightened her back as she released the crux of it all, "and I feel that it is because of you we are to mourn my sweet, beautiful Sybil."

They were both stunned by her honesty.

He paused, taking in what she had just said. The dagger embedded in his heart throbbed.

"OUR 'sweet, beautiful Sybil'" he corrected her.

Unblinking, her eyes locked on his.

"SHE WAS OUR DAUGHTER, CORA!" Robert boomed.

Cora clenched her fists at her sides so tightly her knuckles became white and popped under the strain. Her voice contorted and as startling as a cannon blast she yelled back at him, catching him off guard. "GOD DAMN YOU, ROBERT CRAWLEY!" She screamed it again for emphasis, "GOD DAMN YOU!"

More than 30 years of stifling their differences and accepting her place in his world. 30 years of refocusing her morals and values to align with his. Their life, their marriage, their love, it all poured out of her as she cursed him.

Robert watched her carefully. He could see her pulse fluttering quickly in the side of her neck, her chest was heaving. She simply glared back at him, unwavering, and eventually he looked away in need of a reprieve, to regain his balance and control.

* * *

As Cora slung insults at Robert over her disappointment with his actions and forever disinviting that horrible doctor from Downton, their family sat downstairs in the drawing room, listening uncomfortably. When Cora raised her voice, her muffled insolence could be heard as clear as a bell, and when she cursed at Robert there was an audible gasp from those in the room.

"Well, that wasn't very fair", Mary admonished her mother.

Violet perked up from her grief and glanced over, tsking Mary disparagingly. "Honestly, my dear." Forgiving Cora for her contumaciousness, as Roberts roared above them.

Expectantly both women looked over at Edith, for a third comment, yet Edith sat silently with her head bowed, crying.

* * *

O'Brien was headed in the direction of her Ladyship's bedroom and slowed her pace as she heard the heated conversation unfolding behind the half-closed door. A smug smile crossed her face as she crept closer, her Ladyship was definitely giving the Earl of Grantham a verbal dressing down which filled her with glee, even during this horrible time. She silently paused outside the bedroom door, not wanting to disturb this moment.

There was a long silence, the couple stood with their eyes trained on one another, their faces red with emotion. Robert broke the connection first but when he looked back at her, he had the upper hand. He was in complete control. She on the other hand felt more fragile than ever. She loosened the grip on her throbbing hands and shook her head sadly, her lower lip quivered slightly as she turned from him.

O'Brien knocked softly, taking the silence as her queue to enter, the worst of it was over, or so she thought. "Good evening, M'lady", she said softly, and feigning surprise to see Robert in the room she offered a curt "M'lord". Neither of them acknowledged her presence.

Robert spoke to his wife. "Are you coming down to dinner? We'll eat at 7."

"No!" She said firmly as she walked over to O'Brien, who was now standing at her post beside the dressing table. "Take these pins out of my hair please, O'Brien."

"Yes M'Lady."

Robert stood, incredulous, staring at her as O'Brien started to work.

"I'll look in on you tomorrow," Robert offered sternly.

Cora watched O'Brien's hands in the mirror, "that wont be necessary," she murmured defiantly.

His voice rising again, "Cora, you are my wife!" His statement served as an unnecessary reminder of his dominance, which granted him the authority to call the shots. "I will stop in tomorrow."

Cora dropped her chin and looked over her shoulder, causing her maid to take a step back. Her eyes caught his heels as he turned to leave. Cora's face darkened with all the emotion she was struggling to keep in. She turned back and looked straight in the mirror, her eyes filled with tears as she nodded for O'Brien to continue.

Lord Grantham left the room and pulled the door closed with a slam, so forceful that even O'Brien startled.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: I've been playing around with what went on between Cora and Robert, after Sybil's death, that wasn't captured in the show. I envision this collection covering episodes 3.5 and 3.6, and this chapter begins where chapter 3 left off, and up to the beginning of Sybil's funeral. I wont be doing anything for the funeral itself as I would not do it justice (from a number of angles). No actual scenes from the show are continued or elaborated on, this story has kind of taken on a life of its own and is more than what I intended it to be.

I apologize for the delay, I have a toddler and a full time job and a bit of writers block. A big thank you for the feedback, it is wonderful and greatly appreciated!

I'm just taking these characters out to play, everything and everyone belongs to the keepers and creators of the show. Rating K+

* * *

Every morning since Sybil's passing, Robert would lay in bed straining to hear the slightest sound, praying for the smallest indication that would beckon him to Cora's room, but one never came. Eventually his attention would shift to his work, and the realization that he had delayed long enough. He would rise, ring the bell, and wait for Barrow so they could begin going through the motions.

Despite his grief he felt that he needed to press on, his rationale being that the estate simply could not manage itself. Of course there was Matthew to help carry some of the burden, however Robert found his son-in-law's reproachful estimation of Downton's shortfalls counter productive and hurtful, which worsened his already low mood. Robert felt blamed and guilty and angry and disappointed and intense sadness, all of which were impacting his ability to grieve his daughter. And without Cora he was floundering.

The morning after they fought, Robert woke with an ache in his chest, and a feeling that he was being swallowed up by sadness. Cora was the only person he trusted with his vulnerabilities and he needed her, despite her fury. He needed to mourn.

He deeply regretted his behaviour the night before, Cora was angry and he selfishly did not give her the space she needed. Initially he wanted to go back right away, to apologize, to try harder and to make things better, but he knew they both needed time. After leaving Cora's room that night, he ducked into his dressing room for a moments reprieve, and to hide from O'Brien. He also needed time to compose himself before rejoining his family, he was not naïve enough to think they had not overheard.

Robert was lost in thought as he walked towards her room and nearly collided with O'Brien as she turned away from closing Cora's bedroom door. There was an awkward silence and O'Brien's tight smile made Robert uncomfortable. "M'Lord" O'Brien said curtly with a nod, and carried on down the corridor.

Robert sighed with annoyance as he reached for the doorknob, feeling that somehow O'Brien always had the upper hand. He tapped softly and walked in.

He first spotted the tray sitting, untouched, on the bed. He looked over and saw that Cora had moved over to the chair that sat in the middle of the room. She had her eyes closed, her head propped on her hand, and a book sitting closed on her lap.

"Good morning, my darling" He offered soberly from the door. Nothing moved except her eyes as she looked up at him. "May I come in?" He took a step in to the room.

She knew he was coming despite their acrimonious parting the night before, and even though she had all of her long, sleepless night to think about it, she felt utterly unprepared. "I don't suppose I have a choice, do I?" Her usual docility replaced by bitterness.

"Cora, I did not come here to argue." He walked over and sat in the chair beside her. "I owe you an apology."

"Robert," she cautioned him as she sat back in the chair, watching him closely.

"And I'm sorry," he continued, ignoring her prudence.

She felt empty and unable to summon a response. She simply stared deep in to his eyes and watched as they slowly filled with tears. He let out a sob, as the first few tears slipped from his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Cora." His words choked out of him. She blinked quickly as her eyes began to burn.

Robert ducked his head, lifting his hand to cover his face. She watched as his shoulders began to quaver and the tension in his body started to dissipate with the release of his sorrow. Eventually she had to look away, closing her eyes as tears slid down her checks.

Cora knew that his words were for her, but his tears were for Sybil.

Neither of them moved for a long time, until finally Robert stood. Looking more at peace now that he had been able expose some of his raw emotion. He sniffled and gently smiled at her, thankful for her being there to bear witness.

The sunlight that had begun filtering into the room reflected off her unfallen tears as she looked up at him. Once again Robert was drawn to her appearance, the dark puffy circles under her eyes, her wet lashed accentuating their redness. He swallowed, wishing, but not knowing how to help her. He cleared his throat. "Tom and I are meeting with Travis this afternoon to finalize plans for Sunday, I would very much like for you to come." He affirmed hopefully, as he wiped at the dampness on his cheek with the back of his hand.

There weren't many decisions to be made, given Sybil's rank and the expected arrangements that would already be in place for a member of the Earl's family, and Cora knew it. "I'll stay here." Her voice was strained and Robert finally noticed the hoarseness, a result of yelling and crying. "Mary knows my wishes."

Robert swallowed hard, a flare of irritation stifled in his throat. "Very well," he paused tersely. "I'll look in on you later," and he turned to leave.

Cora fought the urge to snap at him again. She sensed his annoyance with her, which propelled her willfulness, but the previous night had proven that arguing was not helpful, to either of them. "Alright," she stated softly as she turned to face the window.

The door closed gently.

* * *

The days became painfully long for them both. They were navigating themselves through any parents worst nightmare alone, isolating themselves from one another. Grieving independently, they avoided each other to the point that full days would pass without any contact at all.

* * *

Each morning Cora would lie in bed and watch as daylight inched its way into her room, chasing away yesterday's shadows and cruelly reminding her of the possibilities that a new day could bring, but never did. She would long for nighttime to return so she could watch the gloom settle in around her once more, for it was there, in the darkness, she found peace. Yet the calm was always lost and grief's uneasy grip would tighten around her. She would lay in bed long after the muffled voices of her husband and his valet had departed, and as though on queue O'Brien would come in to her room to drop off a breakfast tray and prompt her to eat, to bathe, to dress, to get up, to do something, to do anything.

The morning of the funeral started off like many before it, Cora struggling to find the gumption to begin her day; however, that morning her motivation came by way of loyalty. She would not disrespect her family nor the county they served with her misery. She sighed as she pushed the blankets off her body. The cold air hit her and made her shiver.

O'Brien was surprised to see Cora sitting up at her dressing table when she came in with the breakfast tray. "M'Lady," O'Brien exclaimed. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," Cora stated flatly over her shoulder. "I'm just sorting out a few things." She paused looking at the hat she held in her hand. "What I'd like to wear today." Cora's lower lip trembled as she dropped the hat on the table. She stood. "I think I'll have a bath now, O'Brien." Finally looking over at her maid.

"Yes M'Lady," O'Brien moved to set the tray down. "I'll just start the water and then take this downstairs."

Cora nodded solemnly. O'Brien's eyes burned as she hurried past her mistress. The weight of the day appeared to be resting on her ladyship, and O'Brien felt it too.

When Robert went to her room later that morning, he quietly let himself in and was surprised to find that Cora was out of bed. He took a step deeper in to the room and looked around. He saw the black dressed laid out at the end of the bed, black shoes set out by the dressing table, her black hat and no jewelry. He walked over to the bed and stopped as he looking down at her dress. How he hated it, the colour black. He picked up the sleeve and fingered the fabric.

O'Brien cleared her throat softly behind him. He dropped the garment as he quickly spun around, feeling as though he was caught like a child with his hand in the cookie jar.

Her face remained neutral, hiding her contempt for him.

"I'm looking for her Ladyship," he stated flatly.

"She's in the bath, M'Lord," O'Brien nudged her chin in the direction of the closed door.

"Ah," Robert nodded. "I just need a minute." He indicated.

"I'll leave you to it," O'Brien stated as she back up towards the door. However, she had no intention of moving any further, keeping her within earshot.

As Robert got closer to the bathroom door, he heard the sound of Cora's restrained sobs and the soft splooshing of water as it moved around her body. He knocked softly and called her name, "Cora?" This time he waited for her to respond before he pushed the door open.

She sniffed and cleared her throat. "What is it?" She answered back.

He turned the knob and stepped in. "I'm sorry. I don't want to rush you," desperately trying not to be indecent he made a pointed effort to look at her face. He clasped his hands together in front of his body. She turned her head over her shoulder, towards where he stood at the door. The pinkness in her cheeks told him the water was very hot. He continued. "Our car will be ready at ten," and then quickly added, "we're in the same car."

"I assumed as much," and she shifted in the tub, turning fully to assess his appearance. He was prompt, already dressed. Her heart kicked at her chest as she took in his courtly appearance. "I'll be ready." She turned and settled back under the water. "If you see O'Brien will you ask her to come in here?"

The entire exchange was casual and natural, like conversations they'd had a thousand times before, except this time her voice was flat and void of emotion. It was in that moment Robert realized how difficult this day was about to become. "I will," he responded mournfully before turning to leave.

* * *

Cora stepped outside for the first time in days. The sun was already high in the sky and warmed the breeze as it touched her face. She stopped on her way to the car; closing her eyes she lifted her chin. Silently she said a prayer to Sybil, asking for strength to see them through this day.

The crunching of the gravel behind her pulled her from her thoughts and she quickly moved forward. She knew the cadence of the steps and he quickly caught up to her, and they approached the car together. Cora paused and glanced over at him. Robert's grim appearance and brooding eyes told her he was far away, and she exhaled in relief. They sat in silence for the entire ride.

The car pulled to a stop in front of the church, and they could see that people had already begun lining up, with hopes of paying their respects. She ducked her head, thankful for the large brim on her hat. Closing her eyes she swallowed loudly. The driver got out and started to walk around the car. Robert turned to her, "Cora," he started cautiously.

"I know Robert," she looked up at him, understanding his tone and anticipating what he was about to say next. She stopped him. "I know," and she sighed as the door pulled open. Neither of them moved.

They were staring at one another and slowly Cora's eyes filled with tears. "I'm sorry," was all Robert said, regretting what their social position was begging her to do. He quickly moved and stepped out of the car. He turned and reached back for her. She swallowed her resentment as she stretched her arm out. She had made a vow to herself that this moment was to be about Sybil, and not the chaos that had erupted within their marriage. Her hand found his, and they touched for the first time in nearly a week. Ignoring any appearance of impropriety Robert clasped her hand tightly and they walked in to the church together.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: I've been playing around with what went on between Cora and Robert, after Sybil's death, that wasn't captured in the show. I envision this collection covering episodes 3.5 and 3.6, and this chapter begins where chapter 4 left off, and ends at a scene near the beginning of episode 3.6. As I said last time this story has taken on a life of its own, more than I initially intended it to be (I have much of the end figured out, it's just getting there that's the challenge). If you're still reading, thank you and enjoy!

I'm just taking these characters out to play, everything and everyone belongs to the keepers and creators of the show. Rating K+

* * *

The funeral service for Sybil was flawless. Every detail spoke to Sybil's character and her love for life. The morning was executed with a promptness that allowed Cora and Robert to maintain their dignity as Lord and Lady Grantham, and embody their roles as grieving parents. Their imposed truce allowing their wounds time to breathe.

Violet kept a close, watchful eye on her son and his wife, knowing that it would be Robert to give them away should the tension become too thick. Then there was Cora, whose emotional sensibilities caused Violet concern of a different nature. Yet in this moment Violet was awestruck, daresay she was proud of the woman who stood before her. Cora dutifully engaged with the tenants, accepting their condolences and graciously enduring small talk of which held little to no significance for her, especially on this day.

A break approached in the receiving line and Cora turned her head away from the congregation, inhaling deeply.

Violet nervously glanced around, Cora looked as though she may vomit.

After a moments reprieve Cora blindly reached out and slid her hand around Roberts upper arm. He accepted her touch with a flex of his bicep. Cora steadied herself and swallowed hard against the burning in her throat. She lifted her chin and smiled weakly at the couple that stood in front of them. Robert pressed his arm to his side, squeezing Cora's hand; he carried on in his conversation without missing a beat.

Violet looked away, uncomfortable with the public display of intimacy.

* * *

The ride back to the Abbey was agonizing. Robert carefully watched his wife, and every now and then would open his mouth to say something to her, but words repeatedly failed him. Cora had astonished him with her ability to morph into a sparkling socialite despite herself. Not only that, he was amazed by how well she projected an image of marital stability, so well that at times even he was fooled. But now, as they headed up the laneway he realized the façade they had been carrying out was nearly over. They were heading back to Downton, where the pretense would assuredly be dropped.

The air in the car was suffocating. Cora sat still and uncomfortably tense. She had pulled herself as far away from Robert as possible, dropped her chin just enough that the brim of her hat was hiding her face, and her usually relaxed hands sat balled in fists on her lap. She wanted nothing more than to scream and to rage at him, for it is in times of profound loss people look for someone to blame, and with each pain-filled beat of her heart she was reminded of his actions.

The car slowly rolled to a stop and as though on queue Carson was there to greet them. Cora began to feel intensely claustrophobic. The driver was fussing with something and seemed to be taking an eternity getting out of the car. A chill ran down her spine as heat began rising in her throat. She moved abruptly catching Robert off guard. Her arm reaching out around his body and she began fumbling with the door handle. Robert was surprised by her outburst but could easily see she was beginning to panic. He calmly placed his hand over hers and helped her open the door.

A gust of cool spring air rushed in and Cora hastily pulled her hand from underneath his. She pushed out of the car and took a few stumbling steps, trying to catch her breath. Cora's cheeks had become bright pink, and her eyes were hazed over with tears. Robert carefully climbed out of the car and held his position, uncertain of how he could help her, and even if he could, would she accept it? The driver, now out of the car, stood tentatively between the couple, looking to Carson for support.

The cars carrying the rest of the family had now pulled up behind them, loose gravel crunching as they rolled to a stop. Cora straightened herself. She inhaled deeply and made her way towards the house. Carson nodded, "My Lady" and stepped aside, giving way to the entrance. The chauffeur relaxed, returned to car, and started closing the doors.

Lady Mary's expression conveyed innate concern as stepped out of her car. Her wide-eyes bouncing back and forth between her parents, she briefly caught her father's eye before he strode off quickly to catch up with her mother.

Cora was already on the stairs when Robert entered the foyer. "Cora," he called out to her, his tone somewhere between concern and caution.

She slowed but didn't stop. "I'm just going up to take off my hat." She answered over her shoulder.

"Cora," he said again, now standing on the bottom step. "People will be arriving any minute."

Lady Edith's voice came from behind them. "Mama, are you alright?" The crowd of family had funneled into the foyer and was now watching them with bewilderment.

Cora finally stopped and without turning she thrust her hand out behind her, opening her palm and splaying her fingers. "I need a moment."

The sternness in her tone forced Robert to stop. Rendering him silent once again, he closed his mouth and promptly stepped backward, off the step.

"Please," Cora continued weakly. "Just a moment," and then she hurried up the stairs.

Robert looked back at his family and nodded, accepting the futility of the situation. He glanced over his shoulder and watched her climb the final step. He sighed as he looked back at his mother, her usual indifference replaced by tear-stained uneasiness.

"It's a good idea," Violets voice trembled and she cleared her throat, "to give her some time." She placed a hand on her sons shoulder, gently directing him to the drawing room. She looked back towards the stairs knowing they still needed Cora for appearance-sake.

* * *

O'Brien quietly pushed in the room. Cora was sitting with her back to the door, her hand tightly gripping the bedpost, anchoring her to the bed as she doubled over, trembling as she wept. O'Brien quickly walked over and crouched down on the floor in front of her mistress, "there, there M'Lady" she cautiously reached her hand forward placing it in Cora's open hand that rest in her lap.

Cora grasped O'Brien's hand and squeezed it tightly. She looked up and met her maid's eyes, tears streamed down her cheeks. "I don't know if I can do this?" She whispered to O'Brien.

"Yes you can!" O'Brien stated emphatically. "And you must." She gently gripped Cora's hand in return.

Cora pulled her free hand off the bedpost and wiped at her face, catching the tears that were about the drop off her chin with the sleeve of her dress. "I'm too 'American'" she sniffled. "Too emotional."

O'Brien shifted at Cora's feet. Looking up, she hesitated but spoke in spite of herself. "You've been put to one of the greatest tests M'Lady", she started and paused, remembering back to that horrible incident a few years ago. "You're strong!" It was now O'Brien's turn to falter with emotion. She cleared her throat, "you'll get through this."

Cora's eyes glossed over with fresh tears. Her lip trembled. "Thank you, O'Brien," she murmured softly.

"Grief has no timeline" O'Brien swallowed, "and you'll work through it as you're able" she looked Cora hard in the eye. "The rest of it will sort itself out," she said as she nudged her head towards Lord Grantham's side of the bed. "You'll see, M'Lady."

Cora remained silent, conceding with a mournful smile.

"And as for today," O'Brien gave a final squeeze to Cora's hand before letting go. "You've got to keep going." Cora watched as O'Brien stood and smoothed the wrinkles from the front of her dress. "Not only for you," O'Brien added, risking further impertinence, "but for Lady Sybil."

Cora sat looking at her hands resting in her lap for close to a minute. She wiped at the dampness on her cheeks and sighed heavily. "Alright," she murmured more to herself than O'Brien. She rose from the bed.

"You're nearly there, M'Lady," O'Brien stepped back giving room for Lady Grantham to move around the foot of the bed and over to her dressing table. As she sat down O'Brien saw in the mirror that Cora's emotionless façade had returned.

* * *

With his family settled in the drawing room awaiting their guests, Robert briefly excused himself. He walked through the hall, slowing his steps as he passed by the foot of the stairs, looking up out of reflex. He entered the library and walked straight for the hutch in search of a drink. He sighed audibly when he could not find what he was looking for.

"My Lord," Carson's baritone voice resonated behind him. "Can I help?"

"Yes, Carson" Robert turned, "might I trouble you for a small dram of whiskey?"

"My Lord," Carson's tone gave off an air of disapproval. He nodded.

"Carson." Robert stopped his butler before he could leave the room, feeling as though he needed to explain himself. He paused, and then lifted his arm and gestured in the direction of the drawing room, "I don't know how to do this." His arm dropped and Robert looked up to the ceiling as tears burned at his eyes. He shook his head quickly, and when he opened his eyes the tears had abated. "I just want to take the edge off," he shrugged his shoulders. "I'm about to crawl out of my skin."

Carson nodded. "You're doing just fine, My Lord." He said, "if you'll excuse me, I'll be right back." And with that he unclasped his hands from behind his back and set off with determination.

Robert collapsed on to the settee, grateful for a moments reprieve. He gripped his forehead to keep his mind from spinning. Never did he think he would be facing so many life-altering challenges at once, it all felt surreal.

He was focusing on how he and Cora were to get through the next few hours when a glass of whiskey was presented to him. Robert looked up, "thank you Carson."

"Certainly, My Lord." Carson took a step backwards. "Is there anything else?" He paused, "anything I can do to help?"

Robert took his first sip and considered what Carson had asked. The burn from the whiskey felt good as it warmed his chest. Vapors filled his nose as he quickly sipped again, this time letting the alcohol sit on his tongue before swallowing. He lifted the glass and inspected the golden liquid inside; he silently scolded himself, as he knew this wasn't the answer. Eventually Robert stood and drained the remaining whiskey. "Keep an eye on Cora." Robert requested as he straightened his coat. "I'm worried about her."

Carson nodded solemnly, "of course."

He was about to head for the door when he stopped himself. Robert handed the empty glass to Carson, "and keep this handy."

Carson gave his Lordship a half smile, "Yes, My Lord." He nodded curtly before Robert turned to leave the room.

* * *

When Robert reentered the drawing room he was relieved to see that Cora was there, sitting in a chair next to his mother. A few people had begun to arrive and were starting to crowd around her. Robert quickly walked over and placed himself behind her chair, to help share in the saddening burden. Cora turned her head slightly, to acknowledge his presence and caught the faint smell of whiskey. Anger raced through her and was gone by the time she diverted her attention back to the couple standing in front of them.

Eventually the room began to fill with people, pulling Robert away from his dutiful post. She observed him as he tiredly moved around the room, doing his best to be social for the both of them; she noticed when he slipped away, presumably for more whiskey, returning to the room looking more undone than he had been before he left; and she could not dismiss how weary and muddled he seemed to be getting as the day wore on.

Robert did his best to stay close to Cora, who didn't move from her chair the entire afternoon. He sensed that she was starting to unravel and that her emotional strength was slowly slipping away. When he returned to the drawing room after saying goodbye to their final guests, the Southesks, she looked as though she were on the brink of dissociation.

* * *

Carson reentered the room and stopped. The stillness that greeted him was deafening. A short time ago the room had been filled with people talking, laughing, crying, and reveling in Sybil's memory, now all that remained was the echo of her vivacious life. He clasped his hands behind his back and assumed is usual posture.

His presence indicated that Violet and Isobel had departed. "They're away?" Robert questioned as he smoothed his sweaty palms over his thighs.

"Yes, My Lord." Carson replied with a nod and surveyed the room.

Pulled from her thoughts Cora shifted in her seat. Feeling stiff and practically catatonic from sitting for as long as she did, she slowly lifted her eyes to meet Carson's. She sighed, grateful for her chance to escape. She had done her duty, convincing everyone that she and Robert were merely 2 parents mourning the loss of their child, and not a couple on the brink of marital despair. Cora stood. Matthew and Robert promptly rose from their chairs as well. Cora moved her hand indicating that their fuss was unnecessary. She glanced over to Robert and the second their eyes met she looked away. "I'm going up," was all she said before moving towards the door.

"Mama," Mary's chastising tone immobilized her. "Aren't you joining us for dinner?"

The silence became awkward and uncomfortable. Cora looked to Carson. Their eyes locked. She was stunned by Mary's intrusive query. Carson looked away, diverting his eyes to his Lordship, hopeful that he would take over.

Robert understood the meaning in Carson's uneasy stare, and after a moment he stated calmly, "you're mother will rejoin us when she is ready." He spoke soothingly, attempting to reassure Cora, however, he barely had the words out before she hurried past Carson. Robert attempted to follow her but stopped when he got to his butlers side, there really was no point. "I'll have another drink in the library, Carson" he said under his breath, before marching out of the room.

* * *

As Cora reached the top of the stairs she could clearly hear her infant granddaughter making noises, a sound that was somewhere between a grunt and a whimper. She turned in the direction of the nursery and stopped at the open door. She gripped the doorframe for support as she watched Nanny fuss about the child. The baby lay on her back kicking her legs wildly, enjoying her chance to be free from her swaddle. Nanny picked her up and gently brought her in to her chest, "there now, that's better" she swooned softly as she turned towards the rocking chair. She startled to see Cora standing at the door, "Your Ladyship!"

Cora smiled, but did not speak.

"Are you here to see the baby?" Nanny turned the baby around in her arms, so she could see her Grandmother. "Would you like to hold her?" And she took a step towards Cora, shifting the little girl in her arms, gesturing to hand her over.

Cora took a step backwards, finding her voice. "No." Her smile weakened, "thank you. Not just now."

"Very good My Lady," Nanny's melancholy voice trailed out of the room behind her as Cora headed to her own room where she would remain for the night.

* * *

After dinner Robert retreated to the library. Glad to finally be alone without an obligation to attend to. He sat down next to the fire, whiskey glass in hand. He had been drinking for much of the day in attempt to help him cope with this dreadful occasion. He had hoped the alcohol would do more to pacify him but instead it was amplifying his emotions, and in this moment he felt tremendously sad, and lonely. Robert closed his eyes with a sigh.

He flopped back resting his head on the settee, and as he did the room slowly began to turn. He quickly sat forward. He wasn't staggering, but maybe he was more intoxicated than he thought. Resting his elbows on his knees he supported his head in his hand. He attempted to focus on the carpet between his feet as his mind started to swirl in his reflections of the past few days. Central to all of his thoughts was Cora. Things had been intense, to say the least. He felt he was beginning to understand the severity of her anger towards him, and the weight it carried felt like a noose around his neck. Yet, despite her fury he needed her. He wanted her.

Robert examined their day through a lens of hazed intoxication, drawing connections from inebriated perceptions. They had spoken more today than they had in the past 6 days combined, she held his hand, she reached out for him, she touched him, he gave her space, and he gave her support. Alcohol had skewed his insight. He took another sip as he considered what he had to do. If he agreed with her, accepted the blame and apologized it was possible that he could be sleeping next to her tonight. Robert sat upright and downed the contents of his glass. He felt he had to try.


	6. Chapter 6

AN: I'm continuing to play around with what went on between Cora and Robert, after Sybil's death. This chapter begins before Mr. Travis joins them for dinner (episode 3.6). This chapter is a bit choppy, as I briefly look at the emotions embedded within a few scenes, and then a bit of my own take on the muddled emotions that happened somewhere in between what we saw in the show, all leading us to the final scene at the Dower house (not included in this chapter). I think this is the end of the super angsty stuff….but we'll see where the next chapter takes me, as I've said this story has taken on a life of it's own.

Again, a big thank you for reading and the feedback. Someone asked "Why no mention of Tom?" He's in this one, promise.

I'm just taking these characters out to play, everything and everyone belongs to the keepers and creators of the show. Rating K+

* * *

Sorrow had overcome the estate, and its salient overtone eased them in to a new understanding of continuance and tolerability. The silence that filled the house was there to remind them of everything that was missing, while the stillness gave them time to catch their breath and come to terms with the sobering reality of life and death. The family dynamics were forever changed as a result of their shared trauma.

The Crawley sisters had tied Matthew and Tom to the family, closing the gap in their social position. Now it seemed that for both men their presence at Downton was marred by heartbreak and tragedy, which strengthened their bond, as would be brothers. Mary and Edith were drawn to one another, united in their grief, as they both knew the pain and sadness of losing a sister. Bound by Sybil's memory, and concern for their tiny niece, they embraced Tom more warmly than before, for he too shared in their heartbreak.

Cora and Robert continued to turn further away from each other. They adopted a lifestyle of quiet solitude, neither engaging with the other, but also limiting their interactions with the rest of the family. Robert did everything in his power to stop his emotions. He threw himself into the estate, committing his attention to working with Matthew, consulting with Jarvis, and getting caught up on things that had pilled up during the days after Sybil's passing. When that wasn't enough to suppress his sadness or brooding disdain for Tom Branson he would drop in on the tenants, walk through the village, and when nothing else served to distract him he paid call to his mother, a chore he rarely did without Cora.

Violet was patient with her son. She granted him breadth to vent his stifled emotions yet steered their discussion to ensure her views were heard with regards to matters that required attention. Their conversation was honest and packed with sentiment, which was an unusual and somewhat uncomfortable occurrence for them both. Violet was forthright about Tom and the baby, and showed sincere compassion towards her daughter-in-law, however she remained emphatic to the bigger picture. Her suggestion, to have Cora go abroad, initially gave Robert hope as he agreed it would take pressure off of them both. Yet as the idea settled in and he began ruminating, the prospect of he and Cora separating while things were so volatile between them made him incredibly uneasy, and by the time the dressing-gong rang he was terrified Cora would go, and never come back.

As for Cora, she had grown weary of her isolation, and had begun to feel claustrophobic in her room. The only way to escape it was to be outside. It was quiet and calming, and brought her a sense of peace that the solitude of her private rooms did not. She felt free and truly alone, as there was no risk of anyone, especially Robert coming to her. Cora spent hours walking the estate, venturing farther from the house than she usually would. Eventually she rediscovered a hidden place that had long been forgotten, where once upon a time she and Robert would disappear. It was most beautiful in spring. A small clearing caged in by tall grass and wildflowers. Two large trees pillared a collection of rocks that resembled a prehistoric sitting area. The memories that flooded her came from happier times in their marriage. It was here where they would come to escape the prying eyes of the house, to talk and learn about one another, and when the desire to touch was stronger than prudence allowed; it was where she told him that she was pregnant with Mary, and where Robert expressed his greatest vulnerability to her – that he loved her. These memories exposed her to a dialectic that she struggled to work through; she loved him, and right now she hated him. On top of her grief Cora felt burdened with the task of forgiveness, which compounded her mental state and filled her with resentment. When she wasn't overcome with thoughts of Sybil her mind raced with uncertainty. The only determination was an antagonistic one, she didn't know how to live with him, but also knew she couldn't live without him.

* * *

Cora was looking down at her hands, fidgeting with the top button on her coat as she walked towards the door, she heard O'Brien mention it was chilly out this morning. Robert had his head down rereading the last line of Murray's letter about Bates' case as he walked out of the library. He looked up in time to stop them from colliding. He reached out, gently grasping her arm to steady her as she stumbled back in surprise.

"Hello," he offered with a weak smile, quickly withdrawing his hand.

"Hello," she responded softly. Ducking her chin she made a move, and side stepped around him.

"I'm glad I've run in to you." Robert stated, doing his best to sound neutral, knowing his message might be poorly received. "Travis is dining with us this evening."

She turned to look at him, her mind quickly calculating the rationale. Unable to mute her consternate expression.

"We'll eat at 7," he continued with a tone of authority, indicating this was not a request. He promptly looked down at the paperwork in his hands and then quickly headed off in search of Carson, he didn't dare look back at her.

Cora was left standing at the door rather dumbfounded. Heat slowly pinched at the back of her neck; annoyed she reached at her chest to undo the button she had only just fastened.

* * *

Cora was nervous about enduring Robert's company for an entire meal, while feeling so exceedingly vulnerable. Her emotions were too unpredictable, and with the current state of their relationship Robert seemed to bring out the worst in her. Shortly after Mr. Travis arrived, her suspicions regarding Robert's motives were confirmed, and she grew weary. Tom had done nothing but love Sybil, and Cora felt he deserved far more respect than that which was being offered. She was determined to support him through his oppression.

Cora obliged her duties and did her best to guide the conversation to lighter subjects, but eventually Robert's snobbery got the better of her and she became indifferent. Irritation and exhaustion made it easier to openly challenge him, and she did so, several times throughout dinner. Obstinately targeting his opinions Cora made it perfectly clear she disapproved of her husband's intentions. Eventually Robert shot her an irascible look, indicating that he was reaching his limit. He despised being called to task and she was notably taking advantage of their dinner guests to publically shame his integrity. Cora merely rolled her eyes and stood. "Shall we go through?" She asked backing away from the table, not waiting for a response from anyone. Robert was the first to stand, and by the time the rest of the men had stood she was heading out of the dinning room. Mary and Edith, both wide-eye with shock, glanced nervously at one another before moving to follow their mother. Isobel quickly followed the girls, silently regretting the invitation to stay. Violet slowly rose from her seat, not knowing if she was feeling embarrassment or shame. She looked to Robert whom she could tell was ferociously angry, and silently commended him for maintaining a calm exterior.

Cora excused herself before the men could join them in the drawing room, thus avoiding any further face-to-face interaction with Robert for the time being.

* * *

Roberts's week had progressively gotten worse. The situation with his valet and trusted friend did not look promising; nothing had been resolved, to Robert's standards concerning his granddaughter; Matthew had lit a fire within him regarding the estate; he was continuously on edge about his relationship with his wife; he struggled deeply with accepting that Sybil was gone forever; and now, hot off a row with Matthew, Carson was standing next to him, telling him that his family was not only in the company of, but being served luncheon by a known prostitute. It was enough to push him over the edge. Robert instructed Carson to "have the car brought 'round, immediately!"

He hurried to his dressing room, having enough sense to remove himself from the watchful eye of his staff. Robert could feel his temper starting to get the better of him. He began pacing. Trying to follow his shuffling thoughts and pinpoint what it was that angered him most. Admittedly he had lost clarity lately, and had come to the realization it was most likely due to Cora's absence, for more-often-than-not she was his voice of reason.

'How dare you', Robert thought to himself. How dare Isobel put his family at the center of a salacious scandal. How dare Cora agree to this, for he thought there was a chance she accepted knowing the truth. How dare Matthew accuse him of bad management, he had given his life to the estate. How dare Tom take his only granddaughter, the only living piece of Sybil, away from him? As the thoughts swirled around in his head his anger intensified. And suddenly his impulse control was gone. He violently swung out.

Thomas was climbing the stairs to fetch his Lordship when he heard the crash. He hurried to the door, and when he gently pushed in he saw Lord Grantham breathing heavily, massaging his knuckles. Thomas looked down at the floor to see what his Lordship was staring at - the remains of the broken table lamp. Thomas cleared his throat and Robert glanced up quickly, surprised to see his valet standing there. "I…." He stammered to explain.

"The car is ready, M'Lord." Thomas said quietly, holding a fixed posture of professionalism, his face hiding any element of judgment. Nodding briskly towards the destroyed lamp he finished by stating, "I'll see to this and have it cleaned up."

"Thank you, Barrow" Robert mumbled as he hurried past Thomas, fists clenched.

* * *

The look on Cora's face told him everything he needed to know. She was just as surprised as he was to learn of Ethel's story. She regrouped quickly though, and in the end found another opportunity to chastise him. When none of them would come away, Robert left in defeat slamming the door behind him. He paused in the hallway to catch his breath, and while he silently cursed his tempered reactivity he overheard Cora calmly apologize to Ethel, excusing Lord Grantham's inappropriate behaviour. Violet quickly began leading the conversation to neutral ground as Robert stalked off for the door.

* * *

Robert was coming down the stairs when Cora and the girls walked in to the house. The conversation between Mary and Edith fell silent as they spotted their father. Cora slowed her pace and the girls hurried around their mother, moving towards the stairs. Neither made eye contact with Robert as they passed him. Cora's cheeks flushed with emotion as he stepped off the bottom step and headed towards her. The girls slowed their pace, curious to overhear what would arise when their parents finally spoke. Robert halted in front of Cora, forcing her to stop. He stood rooted to floor, digging his heels he braced himself, he knew she was furious.

Cora was hoping to avoid this, leave it unheeded and sneak off to her room, however Robert had other plans. He reached out and took her hand, capturing her cold fingers within his, hoping his touch would dissipate the storm. He opened his mouth to speak, but she stopped him. Her voice was eerily calm, which unsettled him.

"I don't care what you have to say, Robert."

Mary looked over her shoulder at Edith, confused. Her eyes shifted down the stairs to look at her parents. Edith followed suit.

"Your rudeness embarrassed everyone today. Yourself included!" As she spoke Robert gripping her hand more tightly, pulling it towards his body. Her eyes burned with the threat of tears, as she looked up at him. "I have nothing left right now, Robert." She finished in a whisper.

He opened his mouth, and it was then that she chose to pull her hand away. "Don't!" She stopped him again. "I can't hear it again." He closed his mouth, battling his own emotion. "That you're sorry." She sniped, "I can't!"

She stepped away from him, not breaking eye contact. "You owe Isobel an apology."

Robert nodded twice and dropped his chin like a scolded child, and turned his back to her. He walked away in defeat. Cora slowly climbed the stairs, choosing not to come back down until the next morning.

* * *

Robert was sitting at his desk in the library, attempting to focus on the task at hand when something caught his attention. He looked up to the window and was sadly surprised to see Cora, walking with Tom. An early morning fog swirled around them, and Robert became transfixed on Cora, her careworn features made her appear ghost-like. She was ever-so pale and shockingly thin. Robert's heart throbbed with a dull ache, and he swallowed past his guilt.

* * *

"The nurse tells me you haven't been in to see the baby." Tom stated casually, trying to hide his concern.

Cora smiled weakly. "I've tried." She confessed, as she looked over at him. "It's difficult to explain." She paused again, letting a few strides pass. "She reminds me so much of Sybil," she sighed and returned her gaze to the horizon, "which painfully reminds me of how much I miss her."

He nodded his understanding. "It's strange to say, but I feel she already has a personality, that very much reminds me of Sybil." He breathed out a sad laugh.

Cora's smile deepened. There was a long mournful pause in their conversation. They walked on, side-by-side, matching each others pace. The fog melting in to the dewy grass.

"How are you?" Tom asked, pulling Cora from her thoughts. She looked over at him, her expression unreadable.

She opened her mouth, but "uuhhh" all that escaped was air. Her brow furrowed. She was unable to articulate an answer, Tom had stumped her.

"Can I say something?" He asked her, feeling comfortable enough to risk impertinence.

She nodded, tilting her head trying to catch his eye, "please."

He started by noting his observations regarding the strength of their marriage when he had first came to Downton and the sudden shift since the night Sybil died, which had now resulted in the ruthful strain between them. "If Sybil survived, this rift between you and Lord Grantham would have killed her." He looked over to Cora who was now staring at the ground in front of them, her breathing had quickened. He continued, "You and her father are," he quickly paused to correct himself, "Were the most important people in her life!" He watched Cora swallow slowly. "I'm not about to meddle." He shrugged, "it's none of my business, but I have ears and I can see you're both desperately unhappy." He stopped walking and looked to Cora. She turned and looked back at him. "I'm not a superstitious man, but I do worry this will hold Sybil back from finding peace." He cleared his throat, opened his hands with a shrug concluding his tentative opinion, and stepped forward. Together they continued walking in silence.

They had walked the full length of the house when finally Cora sniffled and offered softly, "Thank you, Tom."

* * *

Carson entered the library and cleared his throat. Robert didn't respond. Carson quickly shifted his eyes, looking to the window to see what held his Lordships attention. He noted her Ladyship walking with Tom.

"Excuse me, you're Lordship" Carson's baritone voice interrupted Robert's thoughts.

"What is it Carson," Robert asked, pulling his eyes away from the window and looking up to his Butler.

Carson extended his hand, offering Lord Grantham an envelope. "This just arrived from the Dower House". Robert accepted it, noticing that Carson was holding a second envelop. He pointed at it, questioningly.

"For Her Ladyship," Carson said, unconsciously tightening his grip on the paper between his fingers.

Robert sighed, as he looked back to the window. Cora and Tom had carried on out of sight. He moved to open the letter and glanced back at Carson, "this can't be good."

Carson offered a weak smile and nodded, "My Lord." He took a step back, and exited the library leaving Robert to read his summons from his mother.


	7. Chapter 7a

AN: I'm continuing to play around with what went on between Cora and Robert, after Sybil's death. This is it. The end. I am amazed by how fixated I became on every moment of their (these fictional characters) lives while they sorted out their grief (a fascinating emotion). This final chapter became huge, so I'm posting in 2 parts.

Thanks for reading

Just taking these characters out to play, everything and everyone belongs to the keepers and creators of the show. Rating K+

* * *

The atmosphere in Old Lady Grantham's private sitting room was charged with tense emotion. Dr. Clarkson's words had taken them all back to that dreadful night, triggering memories that ripped open their wounds. After he imparted his enlightened views regarding Sybil's death, he hoped he had satisfied the Dowagers request, and felt assured that Lord and Lady Grantham understood his message, which could offer them a new way of healing, together. When he was finished speaking Dr. Clarkson promptly moved past Robert, and then Cora as he headed for the door, desperate to escape the room.

Their eyes met and through a haze of tears they saw each other clearly, broken and wounded, for the first time in weeks. Succumbing to it all, Cora tilted her head and surrendered. Without hesitation Robert went to her and pulled her into his arms. Cora's body felt small and fragile within his embrace and he linked his arms to pull her gently towards him. Reflexively she moved her hands, gripping at his back to pull them even closer, snuffing out any air and space between them. Robert tucked his face into the side of her neck; he could feel her racing heart and the tension in her muscles, her cries reverberating through his own chest. He tightened his grip and held her through the intensity of their shared emotion.

Eventually she spoke, her voice muffled by his shoulder, "Robert, I need to sit down." Cora pulled back, their arms still locked around one another. As she lifted her eyes she saw the smudged tears on his cheeks. Her brow furrowed as more of her own tears welled. Blinking lightly, she cleared her throat and said again, "I need to sit." Robert impulsively leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "Ok" he said softly with the tip of his nose still pressed to her skin. A lamented sob escaped her throat. She dropped her chin as heavy tears fell from her eyes, landing on his shirt and jacket.

Violet moved from where she stood at the mantle, taking this as her opportunity to leave. Robert looked over to his mother, her face strained with emotion. "I'll give you some privacy." She murmured and then quickly threw up her hands indicating she did not want him to fuss over her. "We'll have tea in the drawing room when you're ready." She glanced quickly at Cora who straightened and turned her head slightly, acknowledging her mother-in-law, yet unable to look the older woman in the eye. Violet quickly left the room, leaving Cora and Robert alone with their sorrow.

He kept an arm wrapped securely around her waist as their bodies moved apart. She gripped his upper arm, relying on his support as they moved across the room. Together they lowered them selves. Cora landing softly on to a chair while Robert knelt at her feet. Cora watched as he collected her hands within his, pulling them together tightly, he squeezed. Leaning his weight onto her legs, he strained his neck trying to place himself within her gaze.

Slowly the bruising and raw skin on his knuckles came in to focus and she quickly looked up, perplexed. She took in Robert's careworn features, he was pale and his sorrowful eyes held a darkness that indicated he hadn't slept in days. The resolve of their summons had categorically challenged all of her perceptions surrounding Sybil's death. The weight of her recent condemnation was sinking in and suddenly she was aghast. Robert could easily determine what she had just worked out in her mind. His glossy eyes stared up at her silently expressing his care and concern.

Cora began to struggle, pulling and wringing her hands free from his grasp. His open hands fell to her lap as she buried her face. Robert straightened, sitting back on his heel, he watched as Cora slipped towards the brink. She had put all the blame on him, implicating him through her own prejudice, and had done nothing short of call him a murderer. He waited patiently, watching the vein in her forehead throb as she bent forward, sobbing into her hands.

"Cora?" he questioned gently as she worked to regain her composure. After a moment she sat back, her hands slowly moved down her face to rest on her cheeks. She blinked her red-rimmed eyes in to focus. They looked at each other, although much of her face remained hidden. "Robert, I don't know what to say." She murmured sadly through her fingers.

He reached forward and gently clasped her wrists, pulling her hands away from her face. "Nothing, my darling."

The knot in her brow tightened as more tears slipped from her eyes.

"Right now, you don't have to say anything." He kissed the back of her hand before lacing their fingers.

They fell silent as they watched one another. Taking in each other's sadness, their eyes silently communicating more than they were able to physically say, their intimacy slowly reignited. It was Robert's turn to look away as unspoken emotion flooded him, forcing him to recognize his own role in their strife. Cora watched him with a sense of longing, and a warmth arose deep in her chest.

* * *

Robert's aching knees and back eventually got the better of him and he moved himself to the chair next to her. They continued to sit in silent contemplation for what seemed like an eternity. She sat motionless beside him, her eyes fixed on a spot in front of her. He would glance over at her every few minutes, but she appeared to be lost in thought. Finally he asked, "should we leave?"

She blinked quickly and looked up at him as though suddenly brought back to the present moment. "No," her voice was hoarse but firm. "We owe it to Mama to stay." She finished her thought by dragging her fingers under her swollen eyes. He nodded and a moment later he stood. Robert held out his hand which Cora accepted with a weak, half-smile.

She stood next to him, looking up into his eyes. Her heart was crashing in her chest. She felt embarrassed and guilty, and terribly worried about the strength of their marriage, but she also needed something from him. Cora gently squeezed his hand, and used it as leverage as she straightened her neck and lifted her chin. She slowly pressed her lips in to his. He responded quickly, returning her kiss with fervour. A tear escaped Cora's eye and as it rolled on to Robert's cheek, he pulled away.

Looking down at her he sighed a heavy, remorseful sigh before he whispered, "We'll get through this, my darling".

* * *

As the car pulled away from the Dower House, Robert sat back in his seat and sighed lightly before looking over to Cora. "That wasn't too bad," referring to the remainder of their stay. His eyes then looked past her, out the window, watching his Mama's prize gardens move past them. Cora nodded in agreement, watching the scenery from the same window as Robert. The conversation was superficial and pleasant enough, not getting in to sensitive areas or calling out the elephant in the room.

Everything now was beginning to feel like a blur, with only the physical reminders left to nag at them. Robert's touch felt foreign as he placed his hand over hers. She glanced up; he was watching her intently, as though trying to telepathically figure out her thoughts. "Have you been sleeping?" He asked cautiously. She closed her eyes and shook her head. He nodded, "I suspected as much."

He squeezed her hand, the feeling of her thin, cold fingers within his. "And eating?"

Appearing defeated by his question she pulled her hand from his, and placed it in her lap. Looking down she pushed her loose wedding band in to place with her baby finger, "I haven't been hungry," was all she offered in response.

Robert was transported back in time, remembering how thin and weary she looked while she struggled to recover from the Spanish Flu, and Dr. Clarkson's insistence that she work on maintaining a healthy weight. "I'll ask Mrs. Patmore to send up a tray." Cora turned her head to look over at him. Offering to have a tray sent up meant he relinquished her from her evenings obligations, without a fight. She smiled weakly, grateful for his understanding.

The conversation between them, at least for Robert, was getting easier and he carried on to his next thought. "When we get back, I'll need to find Anna, to hear what Murray has said."

Cora furrowed her brow, "I'm sorry," she glanced to her hands and then back to Robert, "I wasn't listening when you explained this to Mama." She paused, as her face turned serious. "Have they set him free, then?" She made sure to focus on his words as he re-explained what had happened earlier that morning. She asked a few probing questions, about things that had occurred over the past 2-weeks, and eventually she had a sound understanding of Bates' struggles. Robert quickly carried on with a paraphrased version of his own troubles with Matthew and the estate, and how his thoughts had been clouded lately which was sure to prompt another, potentially uncomfortable, conversation with their son-in-law.

As much as she tried to stay attentive, her ruminative thoughts betrayed her. The car turned up Downton's long laneway and Robert prattled on, shifting the conversation back to Bates, and his relief to have his proper valet back. Cora's thoughts drifted as her eyes wandered down to Robert's hand that sat resting on his thigh, the skin looking particularly angry set against his dark pants. She reached forward; her fingers gently touched the swollen knuckles. Slowly Cora moved her hand to cover his, watching as the injured skin was hidden beneath her touch. She wanted to ask what had happened, but knew he wouldn't tell her, and figuring it would eventually come out, as things usually did, she decided not to press for answers.

She watched as he lifted his thumb, brushing it over her baby finger. Not sure when he fell silent, but when he did speak again it brought her attention back. "We're here." Cora looked up and saw the driver making his way around the car and Carson, followed by Mary and Edith, coming out the front door. She turned back to Robert, an uneasiness stirred within her. She knew her appearance would be unsettling to their daughters. The driver pulled the car door open.

"You go up," Robert looked past her towards Mary and Edith, "I'll talk to them."

The driver helped Cora out of the car and she stepped away, giving Robert a chance to climb out. "We'll talk later," he said before landing a quick kiss the side of her cheek. She nodded and kept her head down as they started walking towards the house. Cora slowed as she approached her daughters. Without stopping she gently grasped their hands and gave a reassuring squeeze as she passed them, and then quickened her pace as she moved in to the house. Leaving both the girls confused and worried, and looking to Robert for answers.

As Cora went up the stairs, Robert and the girls filed in to the foyer. He caught Carson's eye and asked if he would be kind enough to fetch Anna, as he was eager for an update. Carson nodded and turned away, leaving just Lord Grantham and the girls.

"What happened at Granny's?" Edith asked, searching her father's face for a clue.

"Let's go in to the Library," he offered, holding his hand out to direct them. "I'll explain it all."

Neither of his daughters moved.

Robert sighed and gave them a knowing smile. "Everything is alright. She'll be fine," he started, referring to their mother. "It's fine."

Mary exhaled, as thought she had been holding her breath the entire time they'd been standing there. "What a relief." She mumbled to Edith.

Robert looked at them both, suddenly overcome with guilt as he realized that throughout their recent struggles both he and Cora had unintentionally neglected their elder daughters. "Please," he nodded reassuringly. "I'll explain everything."

Mary and Edith reluctantly entered the library and moved towards the sofa. They sat next to one another and he sat across from them. Robert was about to begin when Carson returned with Anna.

* * *

The remainder of the afternoon and in to the early evening was filled with conversation. Anna explained everything that Mr. Murray had told her; the formalities surrounding his release from prison and a pending date for his return to Downton. Robert granted Anna all the time and support she could need, which of course she was grateful for. He went on to share Dr. Clarkson's refined understanding of Sybil's death, how nothing could have been done to save her, regardless of which doctor he had listened to. However in the end Robert declared he was wrong to put so much faith in Sir Philip Tapsell, and that this whole awful experience had taught him a great lesson. And "yes", he reassured his daughters, he and their mother were talking.

* * *

When O'Brien went to her Ladyships room, Cora's puffy face and red eyes took her aback. "Are you alright, M'Lady?"

"Yes, O'Brien." Cora glanced in the mirror, mildly amused by the shock on her maid's face. "I'm alright."

"His Lordship has instructed that a tray be sent up for your dinner." O'Brien paused with a perplexed look. She found it odd that Lord Grantham was making this request when to her knowledge her ladyship was willfully choosing her own mind these days. "Is that what you'd like?"

"Yes, thank you." Cora moved over to the bed. "But not just now," she sat down. Lifting her hands she began fussing with her hat. "Maybe in an hour, I need to lie down."

"Very good M'Lady," O'Brien could sense a shift in Cora, and she despised not possessing all the facts.

"I don't know what, exactly, Lord Grantham has requested, but please tell Mrs. Patmore not to go to any trouble."

"Yes M'Lady." O'Brien responded curtly, and moved to help her Ladyship with her hat. "I'll wait for you to ring?"

"Very good." Cora mumbled. "I think I'll have a bath later...after I eat." She looked up at O'Brien with a soft smile and then shifted herself further up, on to the bed.

"M'Lady," O'Brien nodded before excusing herself.

* * *

Robert was hopeful when he approached her room. He had just finished dressing for dinner and he wanted to check in on her. He knocked and when she didn't answer he quietly peeked around the door. She was nowhere to be seen; yet he noticed the door to the bathroom stood ajar. He leaned in, straining to listen and gradually he made out the sounds of her soft, woeful sobs. He heard Cora murmur Sybil's name and had to work to swallow past the lump in his throat. All their grieving up to that point had been fuelled by anger and shadowed by blame. Now Cora's crying was simply sad and mournful, filled with the tragic cadence of life's insufferable cruelty. He opted not to disturb, although wanted nothing more than to comfort her. Despite their earlier nudge towards reconciliation, he knew that time and space would continue to be an ally.


	8. Chapter 7b

AN: I'm continuing to play around with what went on between Cora and Robert, after Sybil's death. Continuation of the final chapter. If you're still with me, thank you!

Just taking these characters out to play, everything and everyone belongs to the keepers and creators of the show. Rating K+

* * *

Cora sat at her dressing table massaging lotion in to her hands. O'Brien had just been dismissed, and as her maid opened the door to leave Cora heard the cries of her granddaughter coming from down the hall. The crying carried on for a solid 5-minutes and she considered going to look in, but the infant eventually quieted. Cora climbed in to bed; the ends of her hair still wet from her bath gave her goose bumps as her braid came to rest on her shoulder. As she reached for her book her granddaughter began wailing again, this time louder and more insistent. Cora sat for a moment, chewing her bottom lip as she eyed the fire.

She slowly approached the door to the nursery, and found it half open. The baby's cries were loud and steady. She knocked softly, which went unheard, and gently pushed in. Tom was there, pacing with his daughter cradled in his arms. Exasperated and possibly on the brink of tears, he stopped when he noticed Cora moving in to the room.

"Can I help?" She offered, her eyes moving from Tom's relieved face to the baby.

"Nanny say's it's Colic", he shifted her in his arms. "I don't know what to do? She won't settle!"

Cora walked towards them, holding out her hands, offering to take her granddaughter. He gratefully obliged. Cora took the fussing baby and held her in one arm. She looked down and loosened the swaddle, giving the tiny girl a chance to kick her feet and flail her fists madly. Their colouring matched perfectly, dark hair and pale skin made pink by the heat of emotion. Shifting the baby upright so that her chin was resting on Cora's shoulder, and she began making soft soothing sounds while simultaneously started rubbing her little back in slow, calming circles. The infant continued to cry with frustration.

Tom backed away and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Nanny had to go in to the village, to fetch some Chamomile tea." He shrugged and continued to explain, "Mrs. Patmore doesn't have any." The baby slowly quieted as she bounced gently in Cora's arm. Cora nodded her understanding and continued her efforts, slipping back in to a natural groove that had long been unpracticed. She started to slowly walk around the room, pacing much slower than Tom had been.

"Have you eaten," she quietly asked him over the infant's whimpering.

"Not yet," he stated. "I offered to give Nanny a break." He sighed, tossing his arms out in frustration. "Apparently she's been like this all day."

Cora thought back and remembered hearing the infant crying steadily that morning. "I'll stay," she offered. "If you want to go down." Speaking slowly and sing-songish as though to the baby, and not Tom. "I'm sure they haven't finished."

The baby had nearly settled, with her knees pulled up and her bottom resting in Cora's hand. Her head had tilted to the side and her chubby cheek was now resting on her Grandmother's shoulder. Cora could feel little puffs of air on the side of her neck as the little one caught her breath and started drifting off to sleep. She started moving her hand up and down the baby's back as Tom watched with wonder.

"If you're sure," he said after a moment. "I don't know how long Nanny will be, and…" he trailed off. "…after what you said earlier."

She stopped in her tracks and turned to look at him. She pondered his intention, and then gently smiled at him. "I want to," she considered her answer further and whispered, "It's time." No sooner had she finished speaking when the baby yowled her discontent into her Grandmother's ear. Cora resumed her ministrations and the baby calmed once again.

* * *

Robert thought it better to ask, than to assume he was welcome back in their bed. He approached the door, and found it slightly ajar. He knocked quietly and went in, uncertain of whom he might find in there. He gazed about the room through knitted brows, wondering where it was that Cora could be this time. He sighed through his nose and turned to leave. In the hallway he watched as Tom approached him from the other direction, obviously coming from the nursery. "If you're looking for her, she's in there," nudging his head in the direction of the baby's room. Robert's mood momentarily flared with irritation over the casual manner Tom used to refer to Cora.

"Ah," was all Robert could think of to say, as he nodded his head.

Tom turned and headed for the stairs as Robert passed behind him and continued down the hallway in search of his wife. He stopped in front of the open door and peered in to the nursery. The sight before him filled him with emotion, so powerful his heart skipped a beat. There she sat in the rocking chair, cradling their sleeping granddaughter, swooning her with a soft hum and slow, rhythmic movement. Robert watched them for a moment as the calmness in the room and the ease in Cora's posture lulled him to a place of resolve. He backed away noiselessly and went to his dressing room to wait for Barrow.

* * *

He had hoped that she would be back in bed by the time he finished with his valet, however when he entered through the dressing room he was disappointed to see that their bed was empty. He hesitated at the door, knowing that things would start to get easier moving forward, but his side of the bed had not turned down, nor was the bedside lamp turned on. Robert felt ambivalent. He certainly didn't want to force her hand but Cora had remained the undercurrent of his thoughts since that afternoon, and now he longed to be at her side. Risking impertinence he moved towards their bed and pulled back the covers. He hesitated briefly, recalculating his decision, before climbing in.

Simply being there, settled in their bed was enough to allow sleep to seduce him, and he felt his eyelids growing heavy. When Cora walked in to the room, some time later, she was comforted to find him there, lying on his side with his arms crossed over his chest, snoring gently. She let out a soft sob of relief before moving to her side of the bed. Determined not to cry she began fussing with the sash on her robe as she walked around the bed. She gently climbed up and slid herself under the covers as delicately as she could. She reached for her book she moved it to the bedside table and quickly switched off the light.

After 26-years of marriage, their sleeping arrangements remained 'an exception to the rule' among couples of similar rank and position, and although Robert was never one for spending the night wrapped in each other's embrace, he despised spending a night without her by his side. Cora cherished that about him. She had learned how to read his mood and how to sense his temperament by simply lying next to him. At night, all pretense was set aside and he was simply her husband. The guilt she felt about exiling him was now absolved by his presence. Without hesitation she moved her body as close to his as possible, hugging him from behind, she pushed her arm around him and pulled herself even closer.

Cora knew she had woken him. His breathing had changed, but he didn't move. She nestled her cheek in to the back of his shoulder and inhaled his scent. Neither of them spoke. Robert eventually moved his hand and his fingers entwined with hers. They stayed that way for a long time, engaged in quiet introspection, listening to the crackle of the fire, until finally Cora whispered somberly, "I'm so sorry, Robert."

"Me too," he murmured, wanting to say so much more but his throat burned with emotion that threatened to betray him. Lying this way he felt completely vulnerable to her, so instead of trying to say more he simply lifted her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist, before settling it back over his rapidly beating heart. Slowly Cora's body relaxed against his, her tension giving way to a comfortable softness. Her breathing eased into unison with his and she unconsciously pushed herself even closer to him. He listened with relief as she fell asleep.

Cora awoke sometime later; startled by her thoughts. Her eyes snapped open and she cautiously looked around the room. It took her a moment to regain her bearings. She felt the tightness of his embrace and then heard the low rattle of his breathing from behind her. At some point they had rolled over, and now his arm was wrapped protectively around her. She inhaled deeply, allowing slumber to take over and her heavy eyes slowly closed. The next time she awoke, she was still on her side. Light had begun filtering through the drapes and the fire was lit. Cora searched her body for Robert's touch. He no longer had her restrained to his body, but instead his hand rested on her hip, his fingertips carefully tracing the bone and strummed back gently. She blinked lazily, taking in the fire and the brightness of the room.

Robert knew she was awake as she unconsciously tensed with the weight of him next to her. He slid his hand off her hip, flattened it out over her abdomen and slowly moved it across her navel. He hooked his fingers underneath her other side and gently tugged her closer to him, then he kissed the back of her exposed shoulder. He leaned over her, crushing her body under his, to catch her eye. Cora turned her head to look up at him. She smiled as she lifted her hand, catching his stubbled jaw with the side of her finger.

Robert returned her smile.

"Good morning," they spoke in unison.

She attempted to shift, stuck under his weight. He backed off and she was able to roll herself over within his embrace. They were now chest to chest, her arms folded between them. Cora took in his eyes, searching them for a hint of where to begin. There was still so much to say; life is fragile and unpredictable, and tremendously unfair, but Sybil's death was not his fault.

Robert watched her eyes, as though a storm rolled in and smothered the light. He felt certain he knew what she was thinking and was compelled to look away. In his mind he could hear her voice, how upset she had been, her anger with him. Perhaps some things needed to be said, but the venom in her words still stung. He looked down at her again, her head resting gently on her pillow, her eyes a million miles away. He decided to start slowly.

"How did you sleep?" He caressed the small of her back, his touch and voice pulled her back to the moment.

Her eyes moved, as though scanning her body. "Good, I think."

"I'm glad to hear it." His hand moved higher up her back.

There was a moment of silence, and when she spoke again her voice trembled slightly. "I see her, Robert. Every time I close my eyes I see her." She swallowed and continued, "struggling to breathe," Cora closed her eyes.

"Cora," he said sadly, with gentle caution.

"Until last night," she opened her eyes and looked at his neck, watching the tiny swell of his heart, pulse. "Last night was peaceful. Mostly happy memories," she smiled sadly to herself. After another long pause she whispered, "I miss her terribly," she bent her head down, touching the top of his chest with her forehead.

He tightened his arms around her, "I do too my darling."

Robert's strong embrace wrapped her in comfort, while her warm hands settled on his chest, calming his hastened breathing and easing his aching heart. They stayed that way, remembering Sybil, for so long that Cora was beginning to wonder if Robert had fallen back to sleep, when he finally spoke.

"Do you have anything planned for today?" He asked, his voice resonating from beneath her ear.

Cora rolled out of his embrace and on to her back. She looked over at him. "I'm not sure," she said after a moment. "I have some letters to write. And, I think I'd like to spend some time with the baby." She smiled as she answered.

Robert also rolled on to his back, not breaking eye contact with her. "Again?" He questioned with a smile, "I think that's wonderful."

"Me too!" Cora sounded moderately excited. After a moment she pushed herself up. Curling forward she stretched her back. Robert noticed her spine protruding through the thin fabric of her nightgown; he reached over, placing his hand on her lower back, running his thumb over the first, and largest, notch. "Will you be joining us for luncheon?" He asked casually.

She nodded, "I expect so," and paused staring straight ahead. As the idea came in to her head, she asked him without a second thought. "Will you have time later, for a walk with me?" Carefully finishing her thought, she looked over her shoulder at him, "we need to talk." His hand dropped off her back, landing on the mattress behind her. She couldn't make out the look on his face. "If you don't have time today, then soon." She finished.

"Cora, I will always make time for you." He paused and shifted on to his side, resting on his elbow. He reached is free arm up, sliding his fingers over thin arm. "I have a few tasks on my agenda this afternoon, but they can be switched." He let his hand circle around her upper arm, tugging on her gently. "But, my darling, I don't know what else can be said?"

Her eyes widened, and she looked down at him incredulous. "Robert!" She said emphatically, in the calmest tone she could muster. "I've said so many things to hurt you." She blushed and started to look away.

He tugged on her arm again as he precariously pushed himself up, a vain attempt to distract her. She looked over in time for his lips to land on hers. The kiss was quick, before Robert fell back on his elbow.

She started to fidget with the blanket on her lap "I think we need to talk about it." Her discomfort apparent in her voice, "I need to apologize."

He turned his back to her, throwing his feet over the side of the bed. The motion was quick, and she jostled slightly as the springs settled from his weight lifting off them. The Englishman in him wanted nothing more than to lay this issue to rest. "You have apologized, my darling" he finished. Her eyes followed him as he walked around the foot of the bed. He stopped beside her and looked down in to her fretful eyes. The American in her wanted to talk and make peace in a most histrionic fashion that made him terribly uncomfortable. He leaned in, and she backed away slightly.

"I don't know how to move forward, ple…." he silenced her with a kiss. Dropping himself down on to the bed, he reached out and put his arm on her waist, pulling her towards him. He kissed her deeply, intending to show her he was already trying to move forward. She reciprocated, lifting her hands to his jaw, she sat up straighter and pushed her lips in to his.

He smiled as he broke their kiss, leaving her a little breathless. Despite himself he answered her, "A walk would be lovely," and turned his face in her hands, kissing her open palm. Grasping her wrists, he pulled back, looking at her earnestly, "but you have nothing more to apologize for."

She smiled at him weakly, "we may have to agree to disagree."

"Hmm, maybe?" He considered with a soft chuckle, accepting this as what had to be done to bring them back to a place of marital harmony. Robert still had ahold of her hands and he gave them a gentle squeeze. "I must get on. Matthew and I are dropping in on a few of the tenants this morning." He sighed before releasing her hands. "I look forward to our afternoon together."

Cora watched as he walked towards his dressing room. Robert stopped at the door and turned back to her. "By the way, you look lovely this morning," he said affectionately. She coyly tilted her head as her cheeks flushed. She looked to him with a smile that lit up her face.

He grinned at her and asked, "Can I flirt with you today?"


End file.
